


And then there were (almost) none

by MissToast



Category: Sherlock Holmes (Downey films)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Original Character(s), Oxford College, Resurrection, a sort of fix-it fic, actual magic, as much as that is possible for these two, the norse gods
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:42:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26700868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissToast/pseuds/MissToast
Summary: After Lord Blackwood died Coward only narrowly avoided the same fate. But instead of death he has to live with his grieve, trapped on his sister's estate and forever shunned by society. That is until he discovers some letters that Henry had exchanged with an Oxford professor who had some...unusual views. Coward realizes that the man might be his only chance for peace and sets out on a dangerous path to try the impossible: waking the dead.
Relationships: Lord Henry Blackwood/Lord Coward, Original Character/Original Character (past)
Kudos: 3





	And then there were (almost) none

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am german, so if the language is weird and there are grammar mistakes, please let me know so I can correct them.

Henry Blackwood had understood London's society and the english soul very well. He had known what people wanted to hear, what they wanted to see, and, most importantly, what they feared.  
Nevertheless, he had been a stranger in that society, an outsider that had to adapt to foreign rules. That was precisely why he had needed Lord Daniel Coward. Daniel was born the first son of a first son, an heir to immeasurable wealth. He maneuvered through London society like a fish through water. Lord Coward was charming, handsome, smart, witty, and had the distinguished air of someone you just wanted to trust. He had the thing that people called je-ne-sais-quoi.

It was no wonder he had been the youngest home secretary ever.

And what he had understood better than Henry was this: the English were snobs. They would rather have a murderer among themselves than a man of good breeding on the gallows.

Daniel knew that was the only reason why he was still alive. He was currently sitting in his sister's country home and contemplating the English nature, mainly because he wanted to distract himself from the small box that stood before him on the table. It was a box made out of cheap wood, but it contained the last possessions of Lord Henry Blackwood.

Daniel himself had got them from the little room that Blackwood inhabited when he needed to be alone, somewhere near the East End, hidden away from prying eyes. There had been some books there, a stack of paper and some things to write. Not much more.

But these things had belonged to Henry, and so Daniel wanted to treasure them.

He took a deep breath and finally opened the box. When he had taken the things, there had been no time. He had to shove it all into the container and get out as quickly as possible, into the carriage that would drive him to the countryside.

He would stay here, supposedly for A Very Long Visit. But in reality, this was his prison. He would not be welcome in London should he try to go there again. Good society isolated him because even though he was One Of Them, he had also attempted to betray all of them in the worst possible way. Ironically it wasn't the murders that bothered them most or the rumours about the nature of his relationship with Blackwood, no. What made them wrinkle their noses at him was that Blackwood had been a bastard, brought up low, so far beneath their station that he was lucky to be spoken to at all. It outraged them that such a man dared to plot against them, to play them like a fiddle. And they were most outraged because it had worked, at least for a while. They had eaten out of Henry's palm like dogs. Intolerable.

Daniel sighed and looked closer at the content of the box. There was a writing set, the mentioned papers in no particular order and some letters, bound together by a string as small parcels. Daniel opened them and started reading. He didn't exactly know why, but it felt good to hold something in hand that Henry had held, to read something that he had read.

The letters came from different people. Most of them had something to do with their plan of taking over the government and didn't tell Daniel anything new. He involuntarily gritted his teeth when he scanned over the details. It had been such a perfect plan. And so elegant at that. If only Holmes hadn't interfered...

Daniel was almost about to stop reading when the last parcel of letters caught his eye. There was no name written on the envelope. He opened the first letter and looked at the signature: Prof. H. K.  
The date was almost four years ago. Daniel shook his head, irritated.

He knew about all of Henry's acquaintances, business or otherwise, but he had no idea who this man could be. He began reading.

The handwriting started neat and elegant, but the longer the letter went on, and the more excited the writer became, the sloppier it turned. While Daniel was reading, he felt his head beginning to spin, his heartbeat pick up.

_...and I see no reason for this theory to be wrong unless proven otherwise. We think of magic as of something complicated and grand, but we mustn't forget who used it: mainly farmers, practical people living in close communities. Of course, I can only speak for early Scandinavian people, yet I fail to see why it should have been different for, say, early English folk. Communities such as this valued life much more highly than we do now. A human being nowadays is disposable (look at the factory workers!), but, back then, one couldn't afford to kill people who would work and keep the community alive. So my firm belief stands that most forms of magic do not require human sacrifices, nor unreasonable amounts of blood. We must think much more practical..._

The letter continued in this style. The writer was obviously continuing a conversation he had had with Henry. He sounded scientific, educated, and intelligent, his writing style being a little stilted sometimes, but overall readable. But the topic of the conversation...

Henry had not believed in magic. Not really. Daniel had been the only one to know that. It was all a ruse, a show because Englishmen loved a good show. So why was this man writing to him about magic as if it existed? As if it was a tool that could get used if one only knew how to do it.

And it hadn't been once. Daniel read through the other letters, his throat getting dry and his head spinning. Henry had been in irregular contact with this man, asking questions that the other answered, formulating arguments, offering theories of his own... Sometimes there had been no letter for months. Then there had been some exchanged almost weekly. 

Who was this man?

In one of the letters, he mentioned Oxford. In another, there was half a sentence complaining about some students not turning in their work on time. A working professor then, teaching at Oxford.

Daniel did not smile, but for the first time in months, he felt something else than complete emptiness and despair. It wasn't hope, exactly. But it was a hunch that not everything was lost.

Daniel had always thought of his nephew as a bit of an idiot. He was not an unfriendly young man, nor was he especially conceited or self-satisfied. But he was just so...nice. Of course, Daniel's sister's husband had raised him in Good Christian Spirit, but the boy seemed to truly believe all that nonsense about treating your neighbor right and whatnot. He didn't even have the decency to be a religious fanatic, no, he was just. Nice. Kind, even.

For that reason, Daniel had always felt bemused by him.

He had not spoken to him for more than a year, but now they were both at his sister's house he could easily "run into him". His sister didn't approve of him having contact with the boy, but she didn't need to know.

Daniel found Oscar in the library, hunched over a book, and a piece of paper.  
"Found something interesting to read?" he asked. Oscar's head shot up before he blinked for a few seconds.  
"Oh. Hello, uncle." He sounded slightly nervous.

Well, Daniel couldn't blame him. Officially he hadn't had anything to do with the murders. Holmes could prove that Daniel had been in the sewers before the attack in parliament, but he couldn't prove anything else. A small glance at Daniel's shoes didn't count as evidence. Loyal (and very well-paid) servants swore under oath that Daniel had an alibi for the other murders, and it was amazing how a lot of money made even the most unlikely explanations seem real. So, his only crime officially was trying to overthrow the government, and even the attempted murder of all the parliamentarians couldn't be proved since there was no record of him knowing about the extent of Blackwood's plan. Well. That was the official version.

Everyone knew it was at least partially untrue, but what exactly Daniel had done nobody knew.

Daniel slipped into the role of "Nice and concerned uncle" with an air of "Criminal who regrets his wrong-doings" and smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. What are you doing if I may ask?"

"Ah. Just writing an essay for university. It's about early english history. We need to turn it in after the break, so I'm trying to get it done."

Daniel nodded as if he understood the struggle perfectly. "The semester starts again soon, right? Well, I am happy to see that you are such a diligent student."  
Oscar smiled back and seemed very proud. "Thank you. Professor Kranz is always very strict with us, and he doesn't like it when we turn our work in too late."

Daniel nodded sympathetically while his thoughts raced. Kranz... It couldn't be this easy, right?

"Kranz" he furrowed his eyebrows, "that sounds foreign?"

Oscar nodded. "Yes, he's german. But he's a genius! I don't know any other professor as clever as him!" The boy almost beamed. Good god. He was obviously a big fan of the man.

"What makes him so great?" Daniel asked in a tone that was the perfect mixture of amusement and genuine interest.

Oscar sat up a little straighter and waved his hand while he explained. "He has all sorts of interesting ideas. For example, he always wants us to find sources for what we write about history. In Germany, they are treating history like science, and Professor Kranz wants us to do the same. But he also doesn't agree with all his german colleagues. He says history is much more than wars and monarchies and we should look at other factors as well and also how countries influence one another. He is also just very good at teaching. There are many lectures where I am fighting sleep off, but never with him! He sometimes stops during the lecture and asks us what we think and encourages us to find answers on our own. He says we should always be critical, always try to find another point of view and analyze what we think we know"

"That sounds quite unconventional."

"It is. He is. Some of the other professors dislike him due to that, but most students love him." Oscar seemed very excited. Daniel rolled his eyes inwardly but nodded encouragingly.

"Say, Oscar, you wouldn't know his first name, would you?" he tried to sound casual, but he needn't have bothered. Oscar didn't suspect anything more than a genuine interest in his world.

"It's Heinrich, Professor Heinrich Kranz. He has written a few books, for example, "Early Scandinavians in London" and "The danish influence on the english language". All terribly interesting!"

To Daniel, they sounded more terrible than interesting, but he had gotten what he needed. "I see. Well, I will leave you to it now. Good luck with that essay, Oscar."

"Thank you, uncle."

When Daniel left the library he shook his head over his nephew. Getting so excited over an old man who spent most of his time in a dusty library occupied with things no one cared about. Well, almost no one. If he knew something about Henry and magic, it might be worthwhile to meet him.

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who's back! I have been sitting on this plotbunny for some time now and finally got around to writing it. This will be a longer work featuring one of my own characters, magic, and the norse gods. I am actually studying history and scandinavian studies, so while I can't account for everything i will at least try to make this as accurate as I can.  
> The germans were really the first ones to treat history as a science and they came up with the ciritcal source analysis that is still used today (both statements need to have the annotation "in europe"). Though in the 19th century most historians focused on wars and kings as the centerpieces of history, so Professor Kranz's views are indeed unusual.  
> The views on magic that are expressed here are expressions of my own thought process.
> 
> Now, I'd really appreciate it if you could tell me what you though about this and just give me a little feedback!


End file.
